Alien Traditions, The Return of Pi Day
by Tazmy
Summary: Pi Day returns. So does the insanity.


Alien Traditions (Gen)

By Tazmy

_A/N: Thanks to Sholio, angw, and Kodiak Bear Country for the beta. Thanks to Karri for convincing me to write this and to everyone who reviewed the original Pi Day._

_A/N: This is the sequel to Pi Day. It may make sense without reading the first, but I'm not entirely sure._

* * *

A new madness had come to Atlantis. Lured by the aroma of blueberries and bananas, one by one expedition members would find their way to the commissary only to be met by a strange sight. Dressed in white hats and coats, Atlantis's senior staff, along with twenty or so scientists and soldiers, had taken to making culinary delights. The room was a mess—tables piled high with pie tins and the floor covered in flour. 

"Has there been some new insanity causing illness someone forgot to tell us about?" was the typical question asked by anyone relatively new to the city who chanced upon the scene.

Dr. Khar was one of these people, and wanted nothing more than to run away and hide until the madness was over. He had only been in the city for three months but he knew well enough how insane things could get around the place. On days like this it was best to just lock himself in his quarters and barricade the door.

He found, however, that he couldn't quite bring himself to back out of the room. Dr. McKay, whom he had never seen do anything other than scream and shout, had forsaken his usual uniform for a t-shirt and slacks. Affixed to the shirt was a large Greek letter pi composed of the first hundred digits of the transcendental number. Flour was smudged on his nose and he seemed as engrossed in his task of baking a pie as he was when trying to save Atlantis from certain doom. Most of all, though, what caught Dr. Khar's attention was that his boss was…smiling. Honest to God smiling and enjoying himself.

"Don't just stand there," Dr. Zelenka scolded, grabbing Khar's arm. "We must prepare for the ceremony! Quickly, we do not have much time."

"Uh, ceremony?" Khar squeaked. He was a short man, barely over 1.5 meters tall, which really didn't help in situations like this where he just wanted to get away. There was something intimidating about looking up at crazed people that just made his skin crawl.

"Yes, ceremony. It is now 8:00 am and 1:59 p.m. will be here before we know it. You do wish to enter a pie in the contest, do you not?"

"Contest?"

"Of course you do. Now, here is your workstation for this morning. Good luck."

With that the mad scientist raced off to grab the next unsuspecting visitor.

Unsure how to cook or bake anything, Khar stared at the metal pans wondering what the quickest route out of here would be and if anyone would notice if he just skived off. He was in the process of slowly backing away, when he heard Colonel Sheppard's loud voice echo through the commissary.

"Rodney's cheating! Just thought you'd want to know."

"I am not! I'm simply…"

"Cheating."

Khar found himself staring, mesmerized. The interactions between the two department heads were something of legend, but Khar had yet to witness an interaction himself. In fact, there were many things he had yet to see in this city, and the more he heard, the more he was starting to wonder if he had inadvertently joined a cult.

"You're just jealous that I'm going to win this thing!"

"Only winning because you're cheating, Rodney. That doesn't count."

"I'm not cheating!" Hands flung into the air as they always did when Dr. McKay was excited. "I'm merely using a scientific compound that will ensure satisfaction from all the taste buds."

"Exactly. Cheating. And getting us high."

"Please. It's not a drug; it's a…"

"Cheating," the Colonel sing-songed while walking away.

Standing on his tiptoes, Khar watched as Rodney placed the final etchings into his pi-shaped crust. Was there some strange alien disease that made people go crazy and worship the Greek symbol? Khar wasn't ready to rule it out.

Remembering that he was supposed to be escaping the silliness and returning either to his quarters or to some serious work, Khar began backing away once more only to run into the head of the expedition, the beautiful, charming, and quite insane (as far as Khar stay here had shown) Dr. Weir.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I uh, didn't see you there…" he squeaked.

"Not at all," Weir answered with a smile and a nod. She too had chosen not to wear her uniform, but rather a cute pants outfit with the letter Pi sketched in glittery paints. She pulled a large metal cart filled with pies ready for baking.

"I'll, just, uh, be going now."

"Did you finish your pie?"

"Um, yeah, I…" he mumbled.

Dr. Weir seemed to pick up on his uneasiness, but not the reason for it. Surveying him with a worried glance she asked, "Are you okay?"

Khar glanced around the room where Dr. Zelenka and his cohorts were setting out some of their hooch onto decorated tables. People were covered in ingredients from the pies and many were laughing, but there were others like him--still in uniform and looking positively confused and frightened. He was most definitely not okay because this was most definitely not normal. Khar preferred normal. He understood normal. He did not understand the people here or their strange, alien traditions.

"I am…uh, I have to go!"

Deciding that running away was his only viable option, Khar moved into a sprint only to run headfirst into a man that towered so high above him, it was hard to see his gigantic scowl. This was the monster-man Khar had heard so much about. An alien warrior that could take down twenty Marines with a single blow.

"You finished?" the monster-man asked.

Khar nodded his head, too terrified to make a sound.

"Good."

Strong hands firmly grasped his arm and Khar found himself being pulled away from the insanity and into the back kitchen. "Um, excuse me? Hello? What are you?" But the monster-man wasn't answering.

The journey ended in front of the other resident alien, another beautiful woman with a sweet smile. She was capable of kicking any man's behind and therefore not someone he cared to face off with. But here he was, being dragged before her by an impossible force.

"Found you a volunteer," the monster-man muttered.

"That was quick. Did you not just leave?"

"Yeah. I'm going to go see if Beckett needs any help."

"Very well. Thank you, Ronon."

Khar felt nothing but relief at watching him leave, but then a new feeling of fear overtook him as he saw the large piles of tins piled on the table before the mysterious woman.

"I am Teyla Emmagen. I do not believe we have had a chance to meet before."

"Dr. Khar Cubits," he managed to squeak.

She glanced at him knowingly, tipping her head forward in greeting. "You did not volunteer, did you?"

"Um…I…"

"You must forgive Ronon. He can get carried away sometimes. Still, you are here and I would appreciate it if you would help me."

Khar thought back to his experiments, knowing nothing was pressing but wishing something was. He thought to the mad room that he had no wish to re-enter. Finally, he thought about his mother's words before he left, telling him that if he kept running away he'd never learn to live. And then there was always the fact that if this was actually a cult or a madness and he seemed reluctant to join in their ceremonies that they might hang him by his fingernails or something as insane as that. He wouldn't put it past them.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, summoning the last of his courage.

"The ceremony will begin at 1:59 this afternoon. We must have 3000 throwing pies ready before then."

"1:59? Isn't that a little…"

"Exact? I am assured that it is not. Apparently it is more of an approximation."

Khar groaned as he realized what was happening. Pi, right. March 14th. In American dates that would be 3.14 and the 159 was the finishing touch. Why did he always end up working with the obsessive, silly, and probably insane geeks?

"They actually celebrate a pi holiday here?"

"I am told it is an important day back on earth."

"Who told you that?"

Somehow he had sat down and his heart rate had slowed. There was just something calming about this woman.

"Dr. McKay is a big fan. Since he does not celebrate many of the other holidays the others seem to, I thought that this one had a greater significance. I am also told that it is Dr. McKay's birth celebration."

"Birthday?"

"Yes. Dr. Beckett is working on preparing the gifts as we speak."

"Oh." He wasn't sure what else to say, really. Dr. McKay was not on Khar's short list for birthday celebrations, but he supposed the man's position alone called for recognition. There was also the fact that people around here seemed to care for McKay, despite the way he pushed others back with his rough personality and harsh demeanor. Heck, Khar had been here three months and today was the first time he had seen the man not yelling, what about that mad people _like_ him? Just more proof of insanity.

Filling many tins with whipped cream was not near as bad a job as Khar had imagined, and he had to admit that Teyla made for good company. At one point he found himself making a smiley face out of the cream and then realized how very abnormal this was. He had not ruled out a sickness affecting everyone, and the fear that such a madness had overtaken him led him to quickly hide the smiley face behind layers of cream. Teyla did not seem to notice him doing this.

His job was complete at about 1:40. Music blared from the main room, and a few people had come in with red faces, offering some of the Perdon wine that Khar had heard so much about. An alien alcohol that had been acquired less than a year before and was sure to get anyone drunk in just a few sips. Judging by some of Elizabeth's yells, the wine wasn't supposed to come out until after the celebrations had started--if at all.

Khar disliked drunkenness, but part of him knew that avoiding this mad ceremony would not be an option. Just what did one do for Pi Day besides throwing pies? And Dr. McKay's birthday was something to celebrate? Why exactly? Try as he might to understand, he just couldn't. And he'd had a few good hours to think about it.

"You have done well," Teyla said from beside him. "I think it is time for us to join the festivities."

Trying not to groan, and ignoring the pain in his tired shoulders, Khar left the safety of his seat. The many tables that had once housed ingredients were now covered with his whipped cream pies and the newly baked ones. It smelled wonderful if not overly sweet. Sheppard and Dr. McKay were arguing loudly over the significance of pi in mathematics and science all the while hanging a large blue streamer with the digits of pi around the room.

No one but Khar remained in their uniform. There were shirts that said "sweetie pi", "pi or die", "look for that pi in the sky", "pi are not square, pi are round" and other ridiculous slogans that barely made sense and were only humorous to the geekiest of geeks. People were singing songs from Monty Python to Firefly (not that Khar would admit recognizing the lyrics), while others were generally acting childish and strange.

Khar tried for the exit, he really did, but the masses were many and getting past them was not easy. In fact, it might have been easier to overcome a herd of elephants.

At 1:58 a hush fell over the room. Colonel Sheppard, red in the face and bearing a golden pie, took the podium.

"That's the golden pi of ancient times," someone whispered to Khar in a heavy accent. It was Dr. Beckett, if he wasn't mistaken, the one who had given him a physical and seemed the most normal of the lot…except for the hair.

"Golden pi?"

"It's the award for the pie-baking contest. Long story."

Sheppard cleared his throat, waved his hands into the air, pointed at the clock, and then his countenance turned serious. "My fellow Atlantians, it is now 1:59."

It turned out there was some advantage to being short after all. Khar ducked under the nearest table before the first pie flew into the air. The madness ensued for minutes, continuing amongst shouts and cries and laughter. And he had signed on for this job why?

Believing it safe to come out, he exited only to find a tin smashed into his face followed by large claps. "You cannot get away with it that easily," Teyla responded. He could barely make out her sweet smile between the shades of cream.

Strangely, Khar found himself smiling as well. Loosening up, perhaps. God help him, he must have been affected.

Dr. Zelenka was the next to take the podium, nearly slipping on the stairs from the large trails of whipped cream running down his clothes and shoes. "Now you can have your pi and e it too. These famous words must never be forgotten. That said, may the e'ing begin!"

Not much a fan of anything sweet, Khar backed away to allow the masses their fill. They stampeded toward the table, sure to destroy anything in their path. Grabbing a nearby towel, Khar wiped his face clean and shook his head. The Atlanteans sure were strange.

As the festivities continued, Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard wrestled for the golden pi among shouts of cheating and playing fair. In all honesty, Sheppard would have won, but Dr. Brown had interfered by tripping his legs and granting McKay victory. Not that department heads had any right to act as these two did, but Khar found it nice to know that there was more to his boss than just his acerbic personality.

At long last, the festivities died down. Once the exit was clear, Khar was one of the first to run. The cult had not tried to kill him, and there was something to be said for that. Still, he would be sure to check his calendar from now on so as to avoid being blindsided by the strange alien ceremonies. He also made a note to get a bigger lock for his door and to not fall for the old blueberry and banana aroma trick again.

Still, he thought, he had run from the ceremony smiling, covered in whipped cream, and feeling rather jovial, and, well…okay, so maybe that meant the celebration was fun. Maybe it had been good to relax and take a breather and meet his fellow co-workers away from the stress of the labs. Maybe the insanity hadn't been so bad after all. Or maybe he had just been infected with the madness. He wasn't really sure which it was and strangely didn't care. Deciding not to worry about the madness, he took to humming the Brave Sir Robin song instead.


End file.
